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Chapter Six

Mal was perplexed. "What do you mean, she needs to be cleaned up in th' airshaft? She's never needed that before."

Kaylee shook her head, her hair pulling itself out of the messy bun and causing it to slide slightly down towards her neck. She reached back for it, stopped, examined her grease-stained hands, wiped them off on her coveralls and then pulled the bun out. "I don't know why she needs what she needs, Captain. I never do. Jus' know that that's what she told me."

Zoë frowned. "Think this could be related to River?"

Kaylee's face brightened. "That would make sense!" Then it fell. "Wait. 'xcept not. River's never made a mess up there, 'nd she's been up in all sorts of moods. Can't imagine her ever makin' a mess Serenity would complain 'bout."

"She could have gotten sick," Simon said, coming in. His eyes were wild, but he looked hopeful. At the very least, it was a different look than he had been wearing. "If she vomited up there or something, wouldn't that be enough for Serenity to chime in?"

"I figure it would," Kaylee replied brightly, nodding.

"That means she's sick," Simon said. "She's not just hiding. We need to go up and get her down. Where is she in the airshaft?"

"Don' rightly know where she went," Kaylee said, seeming disappointed. "Jus' know that she's up in there."

Simon took off running towards the air hatch.

"Doc. Doctor!" Mal yelled after him.

Simon paused, turning with a look of overheated frustration in his eyes, the muscles in his leg jerking with anticipation and his frown irate.

"You're not goin' up there." Simon opened his mouth as though to complain, but Mal gave him a look. "You don't know this ship, you'll just get in a tangle and we'll have to go up and get both of you."

"I can go," Kaylee offered sincerely. "I know her pretty good."

"No, lil' Kaylee. I know you know her real good, which is why you oughta stay down here, 'case things get messy. I'm hopin' we don't have to take any panels out to get to her, but if we do, I want you doin' it." Kaylee nodded.

"What about Wash," Simon offered. "Figure he knows the ship the best next to Kaylee."

"If we're not counting River, than he certainly does." Mal nodded. Then, he turned his head to face up towards the bridge. "Wash! Get down here. Gotta job for you!"

The nail was driving deeper, and the girl's nails were cutting into her hands. She was squeezing them, squeezing them, trying not to scream.

Take it away take it away.

She had crawled a slight distance from her own splatter, and was crying face down into Serenity.

They cut her brain and made her melt. Now she was puddled.

Now she was puddled. No River, no flowing babble. Puddle. Going to evaporate away.

Zoë stood and watched her husband prepare to climb up into the airshaft. Her brain buzzed in a strange place far off, and she felt nauseous, something she very rarely felt.

It had been a long time since she had seen this.

They'd been trapped in a building, Alliance all around, and one of the young men (was his name Jamie, yes, Jamie) had volunteered to climb through a shaft much narrower and more treacherous than this one to work on finding them a way out. They had cheered to his bravery, he was a good kid, but halfway through the shaft his leg sliced on a shard of metal and there went the artery. She had smelt the blood even before they heard him scream, short and almost childlike before it was quiet except for the dripping.

She hadn't felt that memory in a long time, not even River's exploits had been enough to bring it back, though she did get a twinge in her stomach when she heard the girl was lost.

Wash smiled at her, oblivious to the flashback. He had a flashlight taped to his wrist, Kaylee had secured it for him, and he looked ready for anything. She swallowed against the taste of bile, something she was growing more familiar with these days, and then turned to Mal.

"Sir, I'd like to go up with him." She didn't say it like a question, she wasn't asking for permission, and Mal looked at her seriously. He knew what she was remembering, and nodded, not bringing their shared nightmares to voice, but she had expected that. He never was willing to share those memories, not even with her when she came in those rare moments looking for the promise that they wouldn't have to live them again.

"Right. Go get the extra flashlight from Kaylee and get it taped on, and then both of you get up there."

Wash trailed after her, as usual a blur of noise and good humor taking the edge of the fear in her memories without knowing just how much he was doing for her. "Didn't want me to have all the adventure, did you?" he said teasingly, unable to possibly imagine what had spurred her into action.

"No, reckon I couldn't let you have all the fun once again," she responded, trying to keep her voice light.

"Well, now we'll have it to share." He looked pleased with that, sometimes it felt that they shared so few experiences, and she couldn't help but smile at him as Kaylee taped the cold plastic against the skin of her wrist and wished them luck.

"Hope she's alright," Kaylee said, looking miserable as she stood uselessly in the engine room. "Find her soon, yeah?"

"We'll find her before you even know we're gone," Wash boasted. He put his hands on his hips, or tried to, but the flashlight got in his way. He pretended not to notice. "We better go. Ready, Zoë?"

"Ready," she replied softly.

"So I think this part will split up and meet back together in a hundred yards or so," Wash said confidently, glancing at his wife as she walked alongside him. She had her eyes focused on the beam of her flashlight, but turned to look at him, jumping slightly as the beam of his flashlight caught her in the eyes. "Sorry!"

"You know, or you think?" she asked, shielding her eyes as he lowered the beam.

"About…seventy percent sure. So reasonably."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Right. Of course you are. I don't like splitting up, but I also don't like being in here longer than we have to, so let's trust this instinct of yours."

Wash nodded, and took the passage to his left. He listened as Zoë walking along the right passage, missing her company already. Suddenly, the smell of vomit hit his nose, and he grimaced.

"River, mei-mei?" he called.

The dinosaur and the warrior were in the bug with her.

Orange and tan-green-beige and they were here they came.

She could hear the dinosaur, wanted him to be quiet but his boots were shaking the metal and she waited.

He stepped carefully around a puddle of vomit, knowing he must be close now. His flashlight beam skimmed the metal ahead of him, and then hit a small shape laying face down.

She turned her head slightly, groaning, and he switched off the flashlight, kneeling down next to her.

"River? River, darling, you alright?"

"Jellyfish and flies. Get them away." He could barely see her. "Nail in her head. Take it out."

"You're having a migraine. Here, I'm going to pick you up."

"No! Nail in her head, take it out!"

He paused for a moment, and then placed one hand gently on her forehead. "You're right. This won't do at all." Taking two fingers, he gently pretended to pluck something from the center of her forehead. "Got it. How 'bout I get you out of here now? You gave us all a scare."

She covered her eyes, nodding miserably.

"Okay, you ready?" She nodded again, and he carefully scooped her up. She weighed next to nothing, but he walked very slowly and carefully, trying not to jostle her. "Okay. I got you. I got you."

Zoë was calling for him. "Wash, you okay?"

"Yeah, I got her."

Zoë rounded the corner, her flashlight kept low, and he could see the look of relief. "River, sweetie. Hey, it's Zoë. We're going to get you out now."

River uncovered her eyes to look at her and nodded, then covered them again.

They were bright in the dark but the girl wasn't alone.

And the dinosaur carried her without scales and the nail was gone and safe.

Safe, safe safe.